Forever Isn't Long at All
by StickieBun
Summary: Their love could last an eternity. Or, it should have. Awkwardly inspired by the Winnie the Pooh song "Forever and Ever". Gift to my friends UnknownPaws and MadUndertaker.


It was like a drug, seducing him as it had many times before. A flicker of blue light from the moving cinematic records. Film displaying images and thoughts of another soul's life – so gentle and calm, beckoning him to reach out once more and run his fingertips through them—let them run through him, though he knew he shouldn't.

He'd been warned not to let them ever touch him if he could help it, and if they did, not to let them stay long enough to break through into his own body and soul, forcing him to relive the life of another at warped speed. It was a forced emotional high.

The first time had been an accident. It had been his first solo reap as an official Collections Officer of the London Dispatch. Though he had still maintained the rookie status. His partner had been called to a meeting and he was left to finish up their collections for the day.

It had been a wet day, and water had been soaked through every layer of his fine three-piece-suit, and a small imp of a demon had tried to interfere half-way through the final collection. The creature had tripped him and he fell forward into the reels, which reacted immediately, wrapping around him and entering him; showing him the life of the target as if he was she. He became her, growing up a poor, but good life, marrying, having children, then loosing her husband and children in an accident. His heart throbbed for the loss. Tears ran down his face, and he, as he watched her memories take a gun to her own head, made the same movements, wishing for the pain to end. And then, there was peace. At long last. Darkness and peace.

The little demon had gotten away with the tail end of her records before he awoke again, and he had no choice but to return to the office and file his report.

But the damage had been done. Every collection after that was a temptation to feel it again. He wanted to know he was helping the souls, not hurting them, he wanted to share their pain and feel their joy.

And he did. Time after time if he could sneak it. It wouldn't due for his protective partner to witness him doing the very thing they all had been warned about. He hadn't been told why he shouldn't, just that he shouldn't.

And now, he'd long forgotten how many times he'd given into the urge, reaching out for the memories of another.

The young reaper glanced over his shoulder to see his partner's status. The tall, built blond with a Scottish accent was a ways off, still, concentrating on his own collections.

He had time enough for a peek…

The breeze picked up and ruffled his soft brown hair as he reached forward, his fingertips dipping into the warm light of the records.

He stood still a moment, waiting, and then the records jerked away from his scythe which he'd been collecting them with and they engulfed his hand. Gasping, he closed his green-gold eyes that were framed by thin oval-framed glasses and he enjoyed the ride of emotions that were not his own for a second…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

On the tenth second, he knew he was risking being caught, and he snapped his tearful eyes open, yanking his hand back and moving to cut the records with his scythe, once more forcing them into being collected.

Panting, he finished the collection and stepped back. Wiping at the tears upon his cheeks with his gloved hand.

"Oi, Alan!" The Scotsman called out to him and the small brunet turned to look up at the man standing a ways away up on the balcony over a bakery.

"We're done 'ere, Lad, lets head on back. I'll buy ya lunch on th' way!"

Alan nodded and quietly, as he normally was after merging with another soul's memories, he hurried to join the handsome Scot. The man had wavy golden locks, left untamed save for the black corn rolls along one side of his head a charmingly crooked smile, and the reputation of the department's biggest playboy.

Eric, as he was called by those who used his first name, looked down at Alan, noting the tears in his eyes. "Hey, ya okay, kid?" he asked, reaching up to help dry them. He was always so gentle with Alan, as if he was afraid that the brunet would be broken by the job they did. And Alan was sure his tears didn't help that way of thinking.

But he didn't mind. Truthfully, and secretively, Alan harbored feelings for his older partner, though he never suspected that Eric would be tamed by anyone, let alone him. He took what he could get.

Alan's cheeks heated and he turned away to rub at his eyes again, "I'm fine. It was just dusty down in the streets, is all."

"Uh-hu…" Eric bent over to look him in the eye again, only on his own level. "Ya know ya can come ta talk to me about anythin', right, Al?" he said. He'd been saying that a lot lately, and it made Alan wonder if Eric was catching on that something was happening in his life, unknown to anyone.

"You told me that, yesterday." Alan pointed out with a nod, "I know."

"Just makin' sure ya know. This job's a rough one, and yars a wee bit…" Eric trailed off in thought, likely to find a word that wouldn't insult Alan.

"Small?" Alan suggested, "Weak? Inexperienced? Soft?" He'd heard it all. His classmates had no faith in him, and his coworkers had little. And maybe they were right. He didn't have what it took to stay detached. To keep emotions out of the job.

"Nah, none o' those." Eric shook his head, slipping his arm around Alan's shoulders to guide him away from the job site and towards the hidden portal back to their own world, "I was thinkin' more along the lines of smart."

"Smart?" Alan furrowed his brow in confusion. He doubted it was smart to be doing what he was secretly doing…

"Yeah. Yer so good at the deskwork, and while ya got skills on the field, you don' have the shine ya have in the office. Yer also wear yer heart on yer sleeve…not so great for field work, ya know? I jus' wanna make sure yer not gettin' too attached.

_Oh, Eric…if only you truly knew the truth in your words…_

* * *

><p>"I dare you!"<p>

Alan walked off the lifts and onto the office for his morning shift, immediately hearing the challenging voice of a coworker who was often a drinking buddy of Eric's. Jonathan.

"I dun' know…" Eric's voice responded, and Alan looked over to see Eric's back to him a few feet away. He was leaning against the half-wall that formed one of the many cubicles that officers worked in, a few of his buddies gathered around.

"What, are you afraid, Slingby?" another reaper smirked, poking Eric in the side. "You always take us up on all the other challenges. Why's this one so different?"

"It's different 'cause 'e deserves better than treatment like tha'!" Eric said, folding his arms.

"Oh—we see." Jonathan smirked, "You are afraid you'll like it too much!"

"So what if I am?" Eric huffed, finding no shame in admitting it.

"All the more reason to give him a go! He may surprise you."

"Yeah, what's the worse that can happen? He's so polite he may just…ignore you for a few hours. Tops."

Eric sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Not a very…romantic way ta do it…"

"Uh, you're annoying when you're smitten. Look. Here he is now." Jonathan pointed over Eric's shoulder and Alan watched as his partner started to turn.

Flushing at being caught watching him, Alan stiffened and turned to hurry to his own cubicle on the far side of the room, but he could hear Eric jogging to catch up to him. His watch chain jingling as he moved.

"Al! I need ta talk ta ya." He said, reaching out to grab Alan's shoulder and turn him around.

Alan raised an eyebrow, "Me? Is it about collections for the day?"

"Nah, personal matter." Eric gave him his handsome lop-sided grin. It only confused Alan more, so Eric continued, "Would you mind if I kissed ya?"

Alan nearly gasped out loud, his cheeks pink, and had he been carrying anything, he was sure he'd have dropped it.

"What?"

"Would ya hate me if I did?" Eric asked, reaching up to stroke Alan's cheek.

Alan's eyes widened. Was he dreaming? Was Eric Slingby actually flirting with_him_? He turned away and moved to his desk, shifting his fresh stack of paperwork to the side, "I couldn't hate you if I tried, Eric." He said, sitting down in his black desk chair and reaching for his favorite pen.

But then Eric grabbed the chair and spun it so that Alan was facing him again, "Good. I wouldn' be able ta do this, otherwise." He whispered before his lips were on Alan's. Hot and wet as they pressed firm against Alan's soft delicate lips. It caught Alan by surprise, and he let out a muffled gasp before he started loosing himself in the caress of his lips.

And when Eric pulled away again, Alan stared unblinkingly at him.

"I have a thin' fer ya, Al." Eric whispered, "But if ya don' feel the same way…I'll back off."

But of course Alan couldn't even pretend that he didn't feel the same. He just didn't know how he could express it—especially with the whole room of reapers watching them.

Alan stood up suddenly, causing Eric to back up a few steps, thinking he'd upset the brunet. But rather than scold him or run away embarrassed, Alan grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from all the eyes and into an empty conference room.

"Goin' easy on me?" Eric asked as he watched Alan close the shades to block the window to the hall and give them privacy.

"I simply believe this is no one's business but our own, and we need to talk."

Eric flinched, feeling more like he was locked in their boss's office than in the room with his crush. But he nodded and sat down in one of the many chairs lining either side of the long cherry wood table, propping his feet up on it as he waited for Alan to start. After all, Alan has wanted to do this, he had the right to speak his mind before Eric further put his foot in his mouth.

Alan sighed and then took a deep breath as he sat down in a chair two places away from Eric, "I need to know what your intentions were with that kiss, Eric. The honest ones. Not what you think will get you out of hot water."

"Well, it was a dare." Eric shrugged, "But…I didn' want to just force a big wet one on ya. You deserve so much more than tha'. –I like ya, Al. A lot."

Alan shifted, looking down to hide his blush, "What kind of 'like'? Like a coworker? A friend?"

"Like a potential lover." Eric stated firmly. "One that would put an end ta 'bachelor Slingby'."

Alan looked up, his eyes as wide as they could go. "You—you mean…"

"I mean it. I've liked ya a long time, Al, but you bring out a shyness I ain't used ta having. So, I guess now…the only question is…da ya feel th' same way 'bout me?"

Alan started to nod, but thought better of it and cleared his throat. "If I kissed you again, would you take it as a yes?"

Eric smirked, amused at Alan's wit. "Only if you're ready fer me ta love ya forever…or do my absolute best ta."

Alan smiled and got up to cross over and plant his 'yes' right on the Scotman's lips, but suddenly, he stopped short, his face twisting in pain as a sharp throb struck his heart and spread through his chest. Gasping, he fell to his hands and knees, one hand over his pained heart. And just as it started to fade, another wave hit, sending him onto his side, curling up as he cried out.

"ALAN!" Eric ran forward, his chair toppling over behind him as he gathered the younger reaper in his arms, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Alan cracked an eye open, "P-pain…" he managed to gasp.

"Hold on—I'll get ya to the infirmary. Just hold on…" Eric said, picking him up and hurrying out the door and down the halls to the stares where he could go down faster to the floor the dispatch infirmary was located.

* * *

><p>Knowing he'd been given overtime for at least a week, Eric refused to return to his desk or collections, staying by Alan's side as he lay sedated.<p>

The doctors had run tests, sending it to the main hospital to confirm their findings, and the news wasn't to anyone's liking at all.

Alan was sick. No, not sick, he was dying. Slowly, painfully. The illness incurable and deadly to reaper kind. The Thorns of Death were growing within him. Ripping his body and soul apart with each attack he'd suffer, and with no clue as to how much longer he'd last. It could be days, it could be decades. It all depended on how active the Thorns were.

Eric cursed, leaning forward with fistfuls of his hair as he let it sink in. There was only one way to contract Thorns. And he didn't like it as the realization hit him.

Cinematic records.

All reapers were warned never to let them pass through them. And he'd heard rumor that they could be addicting. But he never thought that Alan of all people…

Alan, who would often return from collections with tears in his eyes.

Oh, how could he have been so blind?! How many times had Alan done it? How many times had it taken before he'd become infected? That small fragments of human souls would get lost within Alan's own soul and cause chaos? Cause an illness to take root in his very heart? How many times had Eric failed to protect his partner?

"This…" He choked, feeling tears of his own in his eyes, "This changes nothin'. I love ya, Al, and…and I'm with ya until the end. If only…I could share yer burden… if only there was a cure…I'd go from Heaven ta Hell ta find a way ta save ya, my light." He promised, taking Alan's small hand between his own, "I'll save ya…"

* * *

><p><strong>-End-<strong>


End file.
